Heists and Hearts
by ravenromance27
Summary: AU. Maka Albarn was just a girl trying to survive in the cut-throat world she was born in. The last thing she needed was a guy to suddenly pop out of nowhere demanding that she give in to his wants, wishes and whinings all because she stole one little thing from him. Seriously who needs the aggravation when her reputation in on the line?


Authors Note: Soul Eater will never belong to me. I've made my peace with it a long time ago so I'm good. I haven't written anything for Soul Eater for the longest time because I have lost that essential spark. I don't know how to get it back until a song came along and I thought to myself: "Hey that would fit with Soul and Maka…" The song was Lady Antebellum's "Just a Kiss". And so I am allowing myself the liberty to use the title of that song as the title for this current work. I only pray to the Muses, the Gods and the members of Lady Antebellum that they do not to kill me for my cheek.

* * *

_**I don't want to mess this thing up**_

_**I don't want to push too far…**_

_-Lady Antebellum, Just a Kiss_

* * *

_**T****he Present…**__**Library**_

The figure that walked in might as well have walked out of Maka Albarn's worst nightmare. Or the darkest corner of her dreams. There was no hint of the light in him, nothing to indicate on that remote, ascetic visage that he could feel anything at all that's even remotely indicative of ever belonging to the human race. His features, his body's very movement seemed to echo a sharp edge to his very being—like an unsheathed shard so prominently given motion and form.

And perhaps here, amidst the priceless and rarified books and manuscripts, no longer concealed by the shadows that he favors barely hidden within the enfolding embrace of panels of old oak and the faintest perfume of countless applications of beeswax and oil, the very contrariness of nature showed the most as he stood apart, still and remote as nothing else in this enclave of learning.

Though truth be told nothing was overtly obvious about him—tall and lithe as he was—that would suggest he didn't belong in the college. Clad as he was in unrelieved black—jeans, low boots, shirt and slouchy jacket—the sole to the prevailing dark-themed hue of his outfit being the crimson scarf against the fall of his unusual hued mane with its startling shade of pure snow, he gave off an air of aloofness—an untouchable feel to his very person, as if while standing still and there, he was also at the same time, not quite tethered completely to whatever reality dares to hold him. A sense of inevitability laced with danger clung to him, as if at the slightest invitation of violence or aggression he would be at the ready to meet with it. There was just something about him that didn't—shouldn't belong amid the staid, calm air of the college. It was like opening a drawer for cutlery and finding within the mess of forks and spoons a razor edged stiletto.

He moved like a wicked edge of a blade too, all smooth glide and coordinated grace, his long limbs extending and retracting like a well-oiled, custom designed machine, eating up distances in the blink of an eye all while making the action seemed more like a dance that disturbed the senses and warned people off. He didn't walk, he prowled. When his stride brought him roughly at the room's furthest corner, nearest to the only other exit, he pulled up a chair and sat.

He sat, nay, lounged on the straight backed chair and gazed around beneath the shadow of his lashes like some languid hunting cat viewing all the pitiful prey just waiting innocently at the watering hole. His eyes swept past the library's denizens with insulting thoroughness before the same gaze issued dismissal; as if each one of the library's hapless occupant had cost him some wasted effort or another. His gaze, so cool and assessing, continued roaming, alighting infrequently, flickering between only one and a predetermined age group, revealing that he already had a target in mind but it behooved him to let others get off so easily.

She could feel those eyes searching for her…scanning each face, categorizing strengths and the level of threat they pose. He didn't discriminate—looking at every man and woman within his immediate sphere equally, measuring them against his own personal yardstick, as exacting as the judgment scales at Threave themselves.

Even at such considerable distance, the icy piercing intensity of his gaze could be felt or at least rightfully assumed…their fierce intensity unmistakable. She wonders why of all the emotions that she should rightfully be feeling at the moment, all she wanted very much was to see for herself the exact shade of those cold assessing orbs, to peer into those depths and see if they held within them her salvation or her imminent demise. The urge riding her body, the overwhelming sense of inevitability has been growing steadily more demanding and determined with each passing second and it took all of her considerable control not to give in.

_But to give in to what? What exactly is it that she's expecting to happen now that this near stranger has come into her turf her world?_

The temptation beckons and sings its siren song inside her head like a mind-numbing chant ricocheting in all the four corners of her mind…forcing her to listen…admonishing her to care…_Look…See…Heaven and hell…__all for hers for the knowing…their secrets revealed just behind the enigmatic gaze of a near-perfect stranger._And as she waits for fate and Murphy's Law to catch up with her finally a stray thought manages to penetrate the muffled, mushy mess mode her brain is currently struck in.

_**Damn it, I should've let Black Star wipe the floor with those jerks. I'm sure she would've understood what happened and I wouldn't have to deal with idiots who could actually track me down for a real-time felony.**_

* * *

_**Two days ago…**_

_**MAKA POV**_

The place was a dive, just like any of the hundred and one establishments that dotted the harsh unforgiving landscape of the Acheron Colony. And like the others that catered to travelers into their stretch of the road, the place was littered with the usual suspects that could be found in a bar-drunken patrons that smelled like they bathed in the very liquid they partook in, sleazy clienteles with cunning eyes and gruesome grins that slashed across facial features too weathered by age, time and hard living to ever be pleasant, men with hard gazes and women with wizened looks in their wary eyes as they cataloged and categorized those around them within the first thirty seconds of words being exchanged.

The decor also left very little to the imagination, a place that suited well enough for its nighttime patrons since its entire facade and content could and should not be forgiven in the light of day. Mismatched chairs pulled from beneath chipped, plastic topped tables, bare bulbs hanging from exposed wires and a single battered, rusted fire extinguisher languishing behind the bar, serving double duty as both its lone decor and the bar's sole concession to safety standards.

The loud clinks of glass coupled with ear splitting music blaring from the ancient dilapidated jukebox served as mere ground note to the cacophonous thrum of coarse salty language, shouted instructions, growled threats and general pandemonium thinly disguising itself as passing conversation in a place as wild known to all and sundry simply as the Death City Abyss.

And it was here that I, Maka Albarn, part-time waitress and sometimes bartender found myself on the first hour of my shift on the first week of school. The place was less than ideal but the job paid for my rent and the rest of my school expenses and the work wasn't half bad. Today, the bar was packed and that always offered an increase of tips and a hefty addition to my weekly paycheck. I was absentmindedly cleaning a just vacated table, tucking the book I had been reading just minutes before into the back pocket of my jeans, my mind already consumed by the paper I was determined to finish when I get off work when I caught a whiff of a smell that made my sensitive nose twitch.

"Hey there sweet-!"

"Can it Bax."

"Now there Maka, hasn't anyone told you before you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

The man that spoke looked like he just crawled out of the garbage bin after a week-long bender that landed him there in the first place. His clothes and dirt-encrusted beard seemed ready to abandon him at a moment's notice. But even then, there was already a glassful of rum and a half-empty bottle settled in front of him. He was one of the bars regulars and most of the staff could recognize his unmistakable stench the moment he walked in.

"There hasn't been anything sweet near you or about you or within stabbing distance of you Bax since your poor mother gave birth to you. And seriously would it kill you to take a bath?"

"Hey, I resent that Maka-sweetheart. I sure as hell know something sweet when I see one, and I am seeing something very sweet right now. And I take baths plenty of times, and I would take one right now if you park your sweeter self on this here my lap. So, how's about you give me some of that sugar huh-?"

I ran the rag I held in my hand across the table I had been cleaning one more time before using it to swipe at the man's encroaching hands. Leveling the man with a dispassionate glare and pointed a finger at his leering eyes, I began our usual hectoring session.

"Sugar would curdle if it gets close enough to touch you, Bax. I know that. Anyone with half a brain knows that too. Sugar would have itself kidnapped by an ant just to avoid you."

"Now, Maka-sweet, you're just hurting my feelings!"

"You have enough to spare so you better keep your thoughts sugar-free and your hands where I can see them of I might be tempted to call the idiot I call my boss over here to deal with you."

"Now you why would you do something dangerous like that? I mean you no harm. Well, if you won't give me some of that freely, I'm gonna take some for my own."

"Sod off, Bax, all this talk of sweet is giving me cavities." I gave a small laugh at the woebegone expression on his dirty face. "Tell you what, Bax If you find someone to give you some sugar, I'll give you one free drink on me."

An excited light gleamed in the old man's eyes and he heartily cheered on as he downed another shot of rum.

"You have yourself a deal, little Maka."

I nodded my goodbye to Bax and moved on the next table that needed to be bused when a new voice spoke behind me, this one raising my hackles more than even Bax on his most cantankerous days. This voice was the kind that I absolutely loathed. It didn't help my irritation when my ears finally picked up the opening bars of Jessie J's "Pricetag" just blasting it way out of the speakers. I couldn't help but wonder who was on guard duty tonight and what I would do to their worthless hide when I'm through with this newest kerfuffle.

"Well, well…would you look it here…do my eyes deceive me? As I live and breathe, if it isn't the right Honorable Honor Student herself."

_Oh great leaping Hades...somebody shoot me right now._

I've been working in the bar for a year now and every single start of term I encounter what I've privately dubs the 'Trust-Fund Douches' or TDFs. It was a code they use in the bar after we first encountered a drunken group of rich kids 'adventuring' through their neck of the woods. It took all the bar's waitresses, including myself and the new bouncer to pull our irate boss off the bloody mess the cocky newcomers had become after the bar's owner and boss overheard the group dissing the bar. After that incident, I invented the TFD code and the music cue to warn everyone when someone like the unfortunate idiots came into the bar. Unfortunately for me in this case, someone didn't do a quick enough sweep of the place to make the warning count. And now I'm stuck with the first problem of the night.

"Hah! look at the snooty honor student now. Who knew that we would find your prudish ass in a place like this?"

Linus Worthington the Third was a blonde, blue eyed poster boy for the scion of the rich. Aristocratic features highlighted by the expensive clothes he wore like a badge of honor. The condescending smirk permanently painted on his thin derisive mouth matched the cold light in his dead, sly eyes. It didn't help my impression of him when I noted that like always in the case of TFD's, the man in front me had the requisite brawny brainless drone. _Seriously, can he not get any more clichéd?_

"You should be more concerned with the fact that my butt and your brains share the same breathing space. Now that that's cleared, please move."

"Oohh…polite and snooty in a dive. I don't know if I want to be impressed or just plain spooked. What do you think, Russ?"

"I think we should play a game Thirdy."

_Ugh. Loser nicknames. And here I was thinking they couldn't get any worse. _I resisted mightily the urge to use the small tray all waitresses carried with them to induce a coma. Now whether it's to inflict one on myself or the two idiots blocking my way, I couldn't rightly say. Only the reminder that with the year just beginning for me and the fact that I couldn't afford to not to pay my rent yet if I get fined this early stayed my hand.

"Look gentlemen, I'm working here. It's a free country. I can work where I choose and the school knows it. So unless you're ordering something, please move away."

I turned away, intending to use the bar to get to the other side when I felt something brush against my hip and when I looked down I noticed to my dismay that the small book previously tucked there just minutes ago is now clutched in the pale, unblemished hands of one Linus Worthington the Third. I think that's when I finally saw red. I dropped the tray I had been clutching in fists like a lifeline and made a grab for the pilfered tome.

"You—bloody thieving bastard! How dare you! Give that back right now."

"What do we have here? Is it your diary? Ah-ah! What is this? The diary of one Kami Albarn?!" he laughed maliciously and made a show of turning the pages to start reading. I tried a last minute bid for patience and spoke as carefully as possible. The words however were impossible to mistake for the anger it fairly sizzled with.

"Take your hands off my property, you pompous jackass. That's mine and you have no right to take it."

"Is that so? Well then you'll get this back when you agree to a dare, Honor Student."

"You sadistic bastard—why should I do anything you want? Just give it back you jerk! I need that book!" I made a mad lunge for the book and found my hands bound and held in the damp, calloused grip of my current annoyance's drone. Seriously, they were pissing me off and I'm nearing the edge of my tether.

"Tut-tut! That's not how we play the game Toots—"he waved an admonishing finger in front of me and it was all I could do not to take a bite of his pathetic pale flesh to spite him. Only the truth that I would probably throw up if any of his wretched skin even touches my lips kept me from doing it anyway. I could barely afford my rent I can't rack up an impressive medical bill that would make doctors ask me what I eat and why.

"Who the hell said I would play your stupid games-!"

"If you don't agree with my little game tonight, this book takes a permanent dive in the ditch and you would have to explain to your mother why you lost such an obviously valued keepsake—oh wait, I forgot she's gone and this is her only memento right?"

_Oh no he didn't._ Anger froze the panic that threatened to engulf me. My blood roared in my ears and it took all of the considerable control I had left to spare not to bare my teeth and snarl at the man in front of me like a cornered banshee. My eyes glittered with fury as I glared at the man smirking obliviously down at me like a demented clown.

"You bloody bastard. I should scream right now and have Star tear you apart."

The arrogant twat just gave me a disgusted snort. He really was annoying. I wondered why I never put two and two together and came up with the equation that most of the idle twerps that populate my school didn't have the two-cents worth of brain matter to rub together.

"You? You would call for back up? You snobbish bitch who likes to show up people by beating us in the fields? I don't think you would. So what would it be?" he waved the book right beneath my nose again and grinned like the evil douchebag that he was when my eyes inevitably kept track of the book's movement captivated like a snake charmers asp.

"What the hell do you want Linus."

"Simple. I want you to go out into that crowd and kiss—him."

The man he pointed to could only be described as debauched in the kindest way possible. Three hundred pounds of sweaty, florid skin exposed in a glittering jumpsuit, his face broadcasting his leery intense interest in the impressive display of flesh as four girls in varying degrees of disreputable poses were draped all around his impressive girth. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as I spluttered in disgust, her anger and chagrin loosening a torrential flood of vitriol from my severely tested well of finite patience.

"Are you really as deranged as a three-headed tree sloth on a bender Linus? I wouldn't touch that douche-bag with a ten-foot pole. It's like you asking me to kiss you myself you bloody minded twerp! If I have to kiss anyone, I would do the choosing you cretin! And I will get my property back."

"Fine. As you wish, princess. It's not like you know everyone in this crowd. I know for a fact that there's an event here and the city's flooded with strangers. You can choose anyone as long as it's within my view. Well?" he taunted and I tried not to show him my growing trepidation. He must've sensed it just fine though, since he turned a malicious smirk my way and gripped my mother's book even tighter in his pale hands once more, creasing the pages and making my stomach clench. "Time's a-wasting nerd…come and show me what you've got. It's just one little kiss right? Nothing to be afraid of. After all—don't you have this thing for being fearless, _Meister_?"

_**Reputation**_. _That's what I have instead of a family now. A moniker—a label that more often than not lands me in places I don't ever wish to be in. And tonight of all nights I had to succumb to the reckless abandon than my temper usually is. But I couldn't allow the cretin that placed me in this situation to have the last word. __**Never. Not even if it kills me.**_

I leveled a look at the man that taunted and annoyed me since he came in and didn't say a word. We stayed that way for a full minute. I allowed myself to take his full measure, clearly demonstrating my disdain with my cold, assessing eyes watching as with every second that passes his confusion and uncertainty climbed another notch before dismissing him completely from my mind. I crooked an imperious hand and wordlessly, he gave up my mother's book. He knew, just as well as I did that no matter if the books already in my possession, I would push through with the dare.

"I hope you consider this the high-point of your life Linus Worthington the Third. Because by the time I get through with you in school where your brainless drone can't save you, I promise you this—I will strip away every single layer of self-respect left to you and then when I'm done—I'm going to enjoy handing you over to Black Star."

An ugly shade of red splashed across his chiseled cheeks before fear and something like panic flared in Linus Worthington the Third's blue eyes and it brought me some degree of control. Scanning the crowd quickly I tugged my hands free from Russ' meaty grip and started walking.

_I don't know why I chose him. Perhaps it was because he looked so indifferent yet so involved in the sound and sights that buffet me like an unceasing tide. Perhaps it's because he seemed like he wasn't really there even while he was right smack in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it's because for a moment while I looked at him everything around me receded into silence. I couldn't really make myself think too deeply about the reason why of the entire bar's current patron, I chose him._

_I didn't offer my inadvertent victim any words save two—__**"Forgive me" **__before taking what I needed from him. I reached out and grabbed his shoulders pulling him close. I closed my eyes and quickly, lightly brushed my lips against his. I didn't know how else to go about the task and I didn't want to surrender too much of myself for the casual dismissal or rejection of a nameless stranger. My heart was racing and I knew he would be too surprised to detain me. But I was clearly mistaken about my victims reaction time. His arms came out of nowhere and pinned me to his hard unyielding form. His slips slanted across mine with ruthless mastery that for a moment I forgot which one of us needed the act more. I allowed myself one last lingering dip against his lips, one final caress of my tongue against the sinful softness of his before stepping back and allowing myself to be swept up into the crowd hiding my fleeing from amidst the throng of writhing bodies answering the siren call of the night._

_I really thought that that would be the end of it. One stolen kiss and nothing more. One adventure added to mental, heretofore unnamed and unmade bucket list. I should've known my luck that night had already been shot to hell the moment I heard the TFD's theme song come on too late. Everything that night that could've warned me was too darned late._

* * *

_**Present…again**_

She stared at the phantom that materialized in the middle of her school's library like a dark emissary from the underworld and decided that just like her mother's favorite adage—the best defense is an immediate and complete offense. Before the man's lips could even part, she was already growling:

"_**What the hell are you doing here?!"**_


End file.
